Move Along Character OneShots
by rakei
Summary: One-Shots of my friend's Avenger OCs for the fanfiction "Move Along", linked on my profile. One-shots will be in order from the youngest kid to the oldest.
1. Locke Banner

**A/N:** This one-shot is about Locke Banner, Bruce's adopted son. Dialogue is written in Bengal and translated in italics. The translation may not be completely accurate, but I did my best!_  
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_Bruce Banner, what do you think you're doing?_

Bruce stood in the entryway to the small, rundown orphanage. The area was due for a nice cleaning, but he knew that the required cleaning would never come. He'd spent enough time here to know that sanitation wasn't very advanced, thus why sickness was so high. Bruce nervously pushed the sleeves of his shirt up as a lady gestured for him to follow her into a hall of doorways that lead to cramped bedrooms full of abandoned kids.

"Boy?" the woman asked, accent heavy. Banner nodded and his escort stopped and pointed towards a room on their left. The man peeked in to see a small boy sitting on a bed with a beat up toy truck. He was pushing it over the covers like they were mountains and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Ārē āchē_ (hello there)_," Bruce said quietly, trying not to startle the boy with his greeting. The small boy's head raised and he stared at the larger male with wide, innocent eyes.

"Hyālō..._(Hello…)_" the boy responded a bit nervously. He lifted his truck so that it sat in his lap. "Āpani yārā _(You are)_ ?"

"Āmāra nāma brusa. Āpanāra nāma ki? _(My name is Bruce. What is yours?_ )"Bruce crouched next to the bed as he said his name, getting down to the boy's level as to seem less intimidating.

"Locke…" the boy said. He seemed to unfold and bit, but his eyes dropped down from Bruce's eyes to look at his toy.

"Āpanāra baẏasa kata, Locke? _(How old are you, Locke)_" Even though age wasn't an important factor to Bruce, he still wanted to know the basics about little Locke before he agreed to anything.

"Cāra bachara _(four years)_," Locke replied. He seemed a bit ashamed and Banner thought that it could be because he was older than what some of the adults were looking for. The man smiled then looked at the little truck in Locke's hands.

"Sūkṣma ṭrāka _(Nice truck)_." Locke's eyes lit up at the comment and he picked up the toy and held it as if it were as valuable as diamonds.

"Ēṭā ki nā! Āmi khuba ēṭā bhālabāsā! _(Is it! I love it!)_" The boy admired his truck for a moment, leaving the two in silence. Finally, Locke looked between Bruce and his truck a few times and then held it out.

"Āpani ēṭā sāthē khēlatē cāna? _(Would you like to play with it?)_" Bruce could tell that this offer was significant. With a toy as precious as this to Locke, allowing another to hold it was a very big deal. Bruce nodded and accepted the truck and proceeded to run the little wheels over the sheets of the bed a few times.

"Āmi ēkaṭi ṭrāka āchē khuba _(I have a truck)_," Banner said absently as he ran the toy over Locke's leg, making him giggle. Locke looked at Bruce with big eyes.

"Satyi'i? Ēkaṭi satyikārēra ēka? _(Really? A real one?)_" His voice was filled with wonder at the prospect of Bruce having a real life truck—one that wasn't beaten up and plastic with wobbly metal wheels. The man nodded and smiled.

"Hyām̐ , bāstaba! _(Yes, a real one!)_" Bruce said with a laugh. He lifted the plastic truck from the sheets and handed it back to Locke. "Āmarā ēṭā yadi āpani cāna aśbacālanā karā hatē pārē _(We could go for a ride if you would like)_." Locke's eyes somehow managed to grow wider and he cupped his hands around his face in excitement.

"Satyi'i? Kakhana? _(Really? When?)_" Bruce stood and ruffled the small boy's black hair and smiled kindly down at him.

"Parabartī samaẏa, āmi pratijñā Karachi _(Next time, I promise)_." Bruce turned and paused a moment. "Yadi āpani āmākē ābāra āpanākē dēkhatē anumati dē'ōẏā, yā _(That is, if you would like me to come again)_…" Bruce felt Locke grab his hand and the man looked over his shoulder to see the boy's big brown eyes looking up at him, full of happiness.

"Abaśya'i, janāba brusa _(Of course, Mr. Bruce)_," Locke replied. The two smiled at each other and departed, Bruce following the woman who had escorted him back out into the main room. The man thanked her warmly before exiting the building, still smiling.

_Bruce Banner, you are crazy…But maybe that's a good thing._


	2. Cassandra Barton

**A/N:** This one-shot is about Clint and Natasha's daughter, Cassandra. Enjoy!

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Alarm.

Beeping.

Annoyance. The only thought running through eleven year old Cassandra's head was to stop the beeping and to turn over and go back to sleep. As she flopped over to hit the snooze button, she felt her hand collide with something that wasn't exactly her clock. She shot upright and looked over at the wall of flesh she had just hit across the face.

"Ohmygosh, I'm sorry Mom!" Cassandra scrambled to get the words out as her mother released a soft chuckle. She held up a hand, causing Cassie to cut her apology short.

"It's alright, I was just waiting for you to wake up."

"Right next to my bed?" the girl cried, collapsing back into her pillows. "Bout scared the pee out of me!" Cassandra's mom laughed again and climbed up into the bed and lay down next to her. "Whatcha waiting for me to wake up for?"

"The boys went out for some training this morning, so I thought maybe we could do something together today." Cassie turned over and stared at her mother's curly head of red hair and raised an eyebrow.

"No training for me today?" Her mother turned over and looked at her with a smile as she shook her head.

"You've been working really hard the past few months. You deserve a break. And before you ask, yes, Eric has been working really hard, too, but he just needs a little more practice." Cassandra raised her eyebrows higher.

"A _little _more practice?" Cassandra scoffed. Her mom rolled her eyes and playfully punched her daughter's shoulder.

"C'mon, Cassie, don't tease your brother so much." The red-haired girl giggled and stared up at the ceiling.

"Sorry, Momma. So, what are we gonna do today?" She felt her mom shrug beside her and put her hands under her head.

"I'm not sure, hon. What do you have in mind." Cassandra rolled over quickly until she was practically on top of her mom.

"Tell me about Budapest!" A smile stretched up the ginger's lips and the famed Black Widow pushed her daughter away with a loud sigh.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'll explain Budapest when you're older?" Natasha rolled her eyes at her over-eager daughter.

"But Moooom!" Cassandra whined, "You told Eric the same thing when he was my age! He's sixteen and you _still_ haven't told him!" She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration and eyed her mother, waiting for an answer. There was a long silence before Natasha ran her hand through her red curls and let out a long breath.

"We'll talk about it later, honey, I promise. Maybe when _everyone_ is here, and not just me and you, alright?"

"Fiiiiiiine," Cassie sighed. "I've already been waiting six years, so I guess a little longer couldn't hurt." The two fell into another long silence that lasted for what seemed like hours. Finally, Natasha rolled off of the bunk and landed neatly on her feet.

"Come on, Cass, I'll do your hair." The woman held out her hand to help her daughter down, but the girl executed the same roll her mother did and landed it just as smoothly. Natasha smiled warmly at Cassandra and patted her curly hair before leading her over to her vanity. The girl sat down and passed the brush back to her mom, who ran the bristles through the tangled mess that was Cassandra's hair.

"Ow, Mom, careful!" The girl rubbed her head but then laughed at her mom's troubled expression that reflected in the mirror. "Don't concentrate too hard, you'll hurt yourself." She laughed even harder when the woman teasingly smacked her across the head.

"Your hair is like you brother's nest—a completely mess. I need to concentrate so I don't rip out every last hair from your head. Now shush." Natasha went back to carefully pulling out the knots from her daughter's head and the girl leaned back in her chair thoughtfully.

"Did you just call Eric's room his nest?" Cassie asked. Natasha smirked.

"Yes, I did, because that's what he calls it. Have you ever been in his room, Cass?" Cassandra shook her head, but immediately regretted it as the brush yanked her hair uncomfortably.

"No, I haven't. I've peeked in there before, though, but all I saw were arrows stuck in the walls. Oh, and his hamster cages."

"Well, on top of his bunk bed he has a whole pile of blankets and pillows and stuffed birds. Clint and Eric affectionately refer to it as 'The Nest'." The two girls giggled.

"Daddy calls it that, too?"

"Yeah, he does. He actually used to have a nest of his own, before we were married. He would haul all of his blankets up to the highest point he could reach, which was usually a balcony of some sort, and he'd just sit out there with his bow and…keep watch." Natasha became lost in memories and paused in brushing out her daughter's tangles.

"Keep watch for what?" Cassie asked after a few moments of silence. Her words snapped the older woman from her thoughts and she smiled thoughtfully before pulling the brush downwards again.

"Well, at first he would sit out there looking for Loki…You remember that story, right?"

"Yeah…" Cassandra said quietly. She didn't quite like that story, even if her parents hadn't gone into much detail when they told it to her and her big brother. They had just said Loki had done something funny to Clint's brain and it caused him to not think right for a while. Luckily, Natasha had saved him. But, whether her dad had been saved or not, it still scared her to think about him being brainwashed like that. Apparently, it disturbed her mother, as well, so they didn't go any further into the Loki subject.

"But after a while, when there was no threat, it just became habit. Your dad likes being high up off the ground, so I just let him do what he wanted. When we got married, I told him he had to start sleeping inside with me, but he still made me build a loft bed on the highest floor so he'd feel more comfortable." Natasha rolled her eyes and Cassandra giggled into her hands. "Alright, looks like your hair is untangled now. Finally. Now, what do you want me to do today? We could put it up in a bun…" Natasha ran her hands through her daughter's long red hair that was so much like her own.

"Oh, could we straighten it? I've been sick of putting it up for training, so since I don't have to today…" Cassandra looked hopefully at her mother's reflection. "I wanna see what I'd look like!" Natasha smiled nervously at the mess of curls and carefully ran her hands through it again.

"Well, it's worth a shot! It may take a while…" but her words were lost on her excited daughter as she pulled out her flat iron and plugged it into the wall outlet. She passed back the instrument and Natasha held onto it until it was heated up.

"Oh, I'm so excited!" Cassandra said, practically bouncing up and down in her seat. "I love my curly hair, but imagine it _straight_!" The girl flung her arms up dramatically and then giggled as she dropped them back into her lap. She turned to her mom and reached out to pat her curls. "I've thought about cutting my hair like yours before…"

"Really now?" the famed assassin asked, leaning back against the wall. "Why would you do that? I thought you loved your long hair."

"Oh, I do! I've spent years letting it grow out!" Cassandra turned back to look in the mirror on her vanity and placed a hand on the side of her head. "But I've always loved you hair, Momma. I'd like to see what I'd look like with hair as short as yours. It'd be much more manageable."

"You're right about that, sugar," Natasha laughed. "But if you cut your hair that short, you'd end up looking just like me when I was eleven. I've never quite let my hair grow out longer than my shoulders." She leaned down and placed her chin on her daughters shoulder so their faces were side-by-side in the mirror. "Do you really want to look just like your momma?"

"Yes!" Cassie exclaimed, taking Natasha by surprise. "I've always looked up to you, Mom. I mean, you're a famous assassin, married to _another_ famous assassin! You're really smart and pretty and I've always wanted to be like you!" Cassandra smiled at her mom's reflection, not noticing that the woman she was smiling at was blushing and shaking her head.

"Oh, honey, I'm flattered," she patted her daughter's hair, "but you don't wait to be just like me, trust me on that." Natasha then busied herself with straightening Cassandra's hair. But, the girl refused to let the conversation drop.

"Why shouldn't I want to be like you, Mom? You're an awesome role-model." Cassie was completely flabbergasted with her mother. Every girl in her grade looked up to her mom! What reason was there not to look up to her? She had been involved in saving the entire population of New York City from Loki! Heck, she saved the love of her life, too! Any sane girl would admire her for that. But, nevertheless, the curly-haired woman shook her head as she slowly straightened a chunk of Cassandra's hair.

"I haven't always been the good guy, Cass," she whispered. "I've done some things that I'm not proud of." There was a thick, tense silence in the room, only penetrated by the sound of the flat iron smoothing out Cassandra's hair and the ticking of the clock by the bed. Cassandra sat stock-still, staring at herself in the mirror. She was tempted to question further, but she had a feeling that her mom really didn't wish to talk about it. It was probably one of those subjects that related to Budapest and her mom wouldn't tell her about them until she was much older.

"Ah…um…" Cassandra mumbled awkwardly, breaking the silence. "H-How does my hair look so far?" She fiddled with her fingers, hoping the tense atmosphere would diminish with the question. Thankfully, it did when her mom smiled.

"Great, Cass. I can't wait until it's finished. We'll have to take a bunch of pictures so we can show Alice and Tyra." Cassandra smiled at the names. They were the daughters of Tony Stark and Thor—two men who were also part of the famed hero group, the Avengers. Cassie really looked up to the two girls, who were four years older than she.

"Oooh, good idea, Mom!" She was almost bouncing up and down again, but she was stopped by her mom firmly placing a hand atop her head to keep her still.

"Stop bouncing around or I'll burn the back of your head. It may or may not be on accident." The two laughed and then settled into a comfortable silence. Cassandra thought about how much her and her mother had been talking that day. When the two spent time together, it was usually spent in either complete silence or beating each other to pulps in training. Cassandra didn't mind either—the silence was comfortable and welcomed because they often had nothing to talk about, and training was fun and exciting. And it wasn't like her and her mother didn't get along—it was actually quite the opposite. Cassandra was really close to both of her parents, but the closeness was never quite expressed physically or verbally. It was just there and only they could see it.

Cassie knew that today was a bit of a rarity and she was glad it was happening. She decided that she liked mother-daughter bonding time even more than those silent days spent in the den, curled on the couch watching one of those old movies her parents had kept from their younger years. The girl silently prayed that these days would happen more often. Maybe they could go shopping together, or go and get pedicures. She thought about all of the girls in her grade who talked about getting their nails done with their mothers. Cassie had always been so busy with training that she never bothered to ask about going to a salon, but now that she was sitting here relaxing at her vanity with her mother straightening her hair, she was compelled to ask, to see what other fun things they could do together. But, before she could ask, Natasha broke through her thoughts.

"Hey Cass, we should tie a ribbon in your hair." The suggestion was absent-minded and lazy—natural. It made Cassandra smile as she reached over to pull open the drawer in her vanity that contained her hair accessories.

"Yeah…we should…" She sifted through the bows and headbands to find her black ribbon that she only used for special occasions. She set it carefully in her lap and closed the drawer and then proceeded to watch her mom in the mirror as she ran the flat iron through her hair. She was getting close to the sides now and Cassie could see that her hair didn't have as much volume as before. She started getting giddy again but steadied herself when she felt her mom's hand on her back.

"It's gonna look so _cool_," Cassandra breathed, reaching back to pat her flat hair. "It feels so smooth!" Natasha laughed and patted her daughter's back, reminding her to keep still so she could finish.

The last fifteen minutes that the two spent in front of the vanity was filled with Natasha laughing at her daughter's excitement and Cassandra's squeals as the final strand of hair was straightened and the black ribbon was tied in her hair. She shot up and flung herself around her mom, hugging her tight.

"Ohmyword, Mom, it looks great! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down there." Natasha wrapped her arms around her daughter and ran her hands through her daughter's straight red hair.

"Can we go for lunch?" Cassandra asked excitedly after glancing at the clock to see it was after noon.

"Sure, where do you want to go?"

"Shawarma!" the girl cheered, running over to grab her jacket. Natasha sighed and rolled her eyes. She didn't understand that girl's obsession with Shawarma. A moment later, Cassandra grabbed her hand began dragging her out the door. Natasha smiled at the back of her head, admiring just how much the girl was like her when she was that age.

"Momma?" Cassie asked, slowing down so she was walking in stride with her.

"Yes honey?" She smiled down at her daughter, their hands still clasped together.

"Can I have an octopus?"

"Cassandra!"


End file.
